


Surprises

by CatFiveDuck



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sexual References, Silly, multiform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatFiveDuck/pseuds/CatFiveDuck
Summary: Marron is very much not looking forward to her twenty-ninth birthday, and all the uncertainty the passage of time brings with it. Can an intriguing visitor help turn her outlook around?
Relationships: Marron/Son Goten
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Surprises

Dawn's glow streaked across tangled bedsheets, and Marron winced. She'd been resolute in ignoring the shaft of light creeping across the bed, but now it lay on her cheek, dangerously close to her eye. The next few minutes would be a race between the light or the alarm to find which would be the most obnoxious. She daren't move until then - instead taking those precious last moments of peace to deny today was happening.

She'd have to face her twenty-ninth birthday at some point though, and the crushing reality that brought with it. A year left until the scorecard was retallied and she found wanting, the explanations for her self-sabotaged career nonsensical outside her close circle, and her relationship - at nearly two years the longest yet - stuck in a mutually agreed limbo; them both too frightened to ask the other about their commitment but falling into it anyway, she still renting her apartment despite not sleeping there in eight months, he pretending not to notice. All that on top of her sorry transformation into a raisin.

As much as she yearned for his reassurance, she'd been holding back from disturbing Goten. Usually that would be impossible - he'd be deep asleep, lightly snoring, sprawled over sheets and sometimes even Marron herself, rousable only by raising ki in his presence or a pan's sizzle - but this morning was different. He was curled behind her, his soft, calm breath in her ear providing some comfort, in a light doze after clearly sometime this morning cracking the curtains Marron was so sure she'd pulled tight last night. 

The Sun tracked further and dazzled her. When screwing her eyes tighter did nothing to help she threw the crook of her arm over her face and groaned at the indifferent cruelty of it all. That was enough to stir him.

"Morning," came Goten's lazy voice behind her.

"Why did you have to open the curtains?"

"So you wouldn't get cranky with the alarm."

Marron couldn't deny that eventuality. She peeped at the digital clock on the nightstand, her eyes taking a few blurry seconds to focus. Six thirty - she still had half an hour, which was plenty of time to reassure herself with Goten's unwavering affection. Scooting back she found him to nestle in and after a moment he lifted his arm to accommodate and envelope her. They locked fingers. She melted as the little spoon, the weight of his arm providing security, his ki a shield to hide from the day before her. He stopped short of rocking his entire leg over like he would when instigating proceedings, so she pressed back against him, hoping to send a clearer message. He squeezed her tight, but stiffly with a nervous laugh through his nose, not taking the hint to pursue her. Marron's heart sank, and she consoled herself knowing his rejection was probably less to do with her old age but because he'd have to get up for work any moment. In fact --

"Shouldn't you be downstairs already?" Marron mumbled into the pillow, then immediately regretted the sabotage of her chances by reminding Goten of his opening shift. 

"I am," came his sleepy reply. Marron's attention fell on to the kitchen two floors below. There, curiously, was Goten and his ki, all hearthfire and spiced cider and orange glow, and there he was twice more. "All hands on deck..." he sang.

Of course. "Multiform."

"Yup."

"Then shouldn't you be with them?" Despite Goten's technical aptitude, there was something unnerving about ki clones playing with fire and knives.

"I am," he repeated, this time with great care. Suspicion piqued, Marron broadened her search to every spark of ki in the building, finding thirsty potted plants and all manner of creepy crawly usually muddied by the city's humdrum aura. And, even fainter, she felt it; from one Goten below extended one loose tendril of ki, one pathway of intent snaking its way to the Goten behind her. Only one. If that was the case, then -

The clone released her, picking up on the wave of acrimony rising in her chest.

"Before you get mad -" she'd sat up and spun away, a glare ready to go, sheets clutched to chest to protect what modesty her oversized shirt had not afforded her. It held its hands in surrender "- you're right. He couldn't afford to sleep in, but he also didn't want you to wake up alone today." It had the audacity to use his voice.

"You say that like he thinks I need emotional support," Marron spat. She couldn't believe herself. She'd almost… _With a puppet..._

The clone withstood the rebuff, unamused, meeting her anger with stolen dark eyes and raised eyebrows. "When you turned twenty-four you came crying because you'd decided you only had a year left to make the perfect, brochured life."

"I didn't go crying to _you…_ "

It nodded. "Fine. Crying to Goten, then. So, what's waking you early this time round?"

Marron considered not replying further in protest at the deception, but it wasn't like this mirage could help its programming, and besides, it, he, seemed remarkably Goten-like for a ball of ki. She lay back and absorbed herself in the narrow band of dapples playing on the ceiling - ever evolving yet forever looping reflections from the plaza's fountain. "... All those same worries," she said, "but this time I have wrinkles. I'm officially past my prime. My life is over for real." 

"Lemme look?" His big fat head floated into view, indistinguishable from the real thing, blocking the muse of her pretentious mopings. "I can't see any." 

He was obviously lying to spare her feelings. "They're there if I smile." She demonstrated with a grimace.

"Pfft. Like on everyone."

"But longer, and deeper! I'm drinking gallons of water and exfoliating all the time but nothing helps. People already think Mom's my sister. I'm practically _dead_."

He didn't understand, blank throughout her reveal of deep trauma. "'Laughter lines mean a life well-lived.' There's nothing to be scared of."

She scoffed. "Rich coming from you. You'll be hot forever and I'll be some withered crone."

"But you'll be my withered crone."

He kissed her cheek, and Marron warmed at the small act, feeling wanted again and buoyed. Then with sudden shame she remembered what he was, lulled into false comfort by their familiar bickering. He understood his accidental transgression in the same moment, his loving smile faltering as he withdrew apologetically. He sat up and away to make space for her coming reprimand. One did balloon up in her shame, but deflated soon enough. He seemed sad enough already.

"It's okay, really." She snuggled down into the pillow beside him. The clone tentatively followed suit, flicking the sheets over them both to cosy down, something Goten always did. "It's a sweet gesture from him. A little creepy in execution -" the clone winced "- but on balance I'm glad he's kind of here all the same."

His warm brown eyes softened, the rest of his reassured smile hidden by the sheets - such a familiar act. Curiosity finally outweighed her earlier repulsion. Marron found his hand under the sheets, and they interlaced fingers again. She stroked the clone's thumb with her own. Even a mindful touch revealed no difference between clone and her memory of the real man. Only her ki-sense showed his aura as a quarter the size of Goten's, as he - the original Goten - had twisted and split his centre into half and half again, the real part inhabiting the true body, the remaining believing they were just as entitled to one, which was seemingly enough for the ki to fashion a replica. She'd seen clones plenty of times before in Goten's kitchen, beavering away in silence. But it was odd, this clone could clearly think on his own.

"Goten's not piloting you, is he?"

"Hmm? Oh," the clone laughed, "no. He has some control and could look in I guess, but he's too busy to bother."

"But you said he couldn't afford to sleep in."

"Because one weird dream sending one weird instruction and- _poof_. Brownie batter everywhere. That's all."

He seemed awfully calm at the prospect, almost suspiciously so. "For a real person that would mean death."

"I'm real enough where it counts, I just know my lot. Merging would be better to keep my memories, but if I poof, I poof. Can't do nothing about that."

"Does poofing hurt?"

"I dunno. I don't have the clones' memories from when they have."

They lay in contemplative silence. Marron found herself further drawn to the apparition, this time to the slow rise and fall of his broad chest, the rhythmic way his breath rippled the sheet. Up and down, up and down. Goten couldn't be consciously running this, there was no way to, the clone had to be telling the truth. Marron held her hand to his mouth.

"What?" he laughed, and his warm breath tickled her hand.

"You're even breathing. You're so real."

"That's the idea. Wouldn't be useful if you could tell easy."

"I know, but I've never thought about what that meant before. I thought clones were all robotic, dead-eyed puppets."

"More like exhausted from working all morning when you turn up to steal a pastry."

"Hmm." She sat up to kneel on the bed, still holding his hand, and yanked the sheets back from them both, as though hoping to find he hadn't truly rendered below the shoulders. But even his vest and shorts folded like real fabric; white cotton top creased, the shorts grey and dulled with their faked age and wear.

"Excuse you," he said. He feigned his annoyance, rocking their hands at his joke.

Their intertwined fingers brought her attention back to his touch. Marron pressed her fingers together, finding a frustratingly real resistance in his, all apparently skin on bone. Then, on seeing him smile softly to return what he must have thought a loving gesture, she engaged her ki - and squeezed.

The clone yelled, tearing his hand away from her vice grip. With a look of horror he shook his hand to recovery, well clear of Marron's reach. "What the Hell was that for?" he said.

"So it hurt."

"Yes-!"

"Why?"

"Because my guard was down. I wasn't expecting you to pop my fingers off, you loon." He gave his fingers a final rub and wiggle, eyeing her with suspicion from the far side of the bed. "And I'm a quarter weaker like this, you know that," he added with a pout.

"But _why_ would it hurt?" She clamboured towards him, scrutinising every one of his muscle twitches, every bounce of jet black hair strands as he readied to defend himself, she hoping for a betrayal of reality and finding none. "Wouldn't it make more sense to not feel pain? You'd last longer in a fight."

"‘No pain''s a harder command than ‘be Goten', which my - Goten's - ki is a kind of expert at. Our real body feels pain, so this one can, too."

"So does ‘be Goten' mean that, if I ripped off your arm -"

He scrambled off the bed to press against the wall. "Steady!"

"- _hypothetically_ ripped it off, obviously," God he could be so dramatic sometimes, "could you grow an arm back because you're based on the blueprint?"

To his credit, the clone gave the question more thought than it really deserved.

"...I've seen clones lose limbs. They poof from shock."

"But if you could hold off poofing."

He sighed, exasperated, searching for an answer around the room. He eventually shrugged. "Maybe. I'd probably bleed out before I could learn to, though."

"And would you bleed because you _know_ bleeding is what happens, or because you have blood inside you _already_?"

"Okay, time out." The clone folded his arms, slumping back against the wall. "What's with the interrogation? If I've made you uncomfortable I can leave."

"No." Marron recoiled, embarrassed. That was the complete opposite problem, in truth. He'd made her very comfortable in the embrace she'd foisted on him. Too comfortable, to her shame and now panic-driven curiosity, and she hadn't meant to be so obvious in her probing. His presence had reminded her of a question Goten had once asked, and she'd replied then with far-reaching, heavy scorn. If Marron could find the tell-tales that the clone was indeed a pale imitation of her boyfriend, she'd have been in the right and not the ass. But all she could do was marvel and see this entire charade as for what it was - her boyfriend yet again patiently indulging her. "I want to know how real you are," she said, "how similar you are to Goten, that's all."

He took a moment to settle on whether to believe her, suspicion lingering. "Pretty sure I'm the same inside and out without remembering to be." He carefully sat on the bed and Marron scurried away in earnestness to give him space. He pulled up his vest to expose his back. "How's the scar look?"

He had more than one, in fact. Unlike the few permanent marks Marron had picked up over the years, most of the ‘scars' Goten acquired faded on him and other Saiyans within weeks; the two nicks on his lower back from training were already on the way out. The scar he referred to was a little more obvious, a result of their last big outing a month ago. He'd taken a sharp ki whip over his right shoulder, the deep gouge tracking down across his shoulder blade, backbone and round to hold his waist. The attack and its cauterisation hadn't hit muscle but was otherwise deep, and the now shock-white scar was taking some time to smooth out. She gently traced the injury with light fingertips, every bump and deviation identical to her memory of her first week applying salves. 

"A perfect replica. Turn around for me?" 

He did so, releasing his shirt.

"Open your mouth."

He followed the order with some hesitation. For good reason. Marron grabbed his chin to force it wider. He yelped, but he let her tilt his face into the light. He had back teeth, and tonsils. He swallowed in his trepidation, and his throat tightened on the inside, too. She stuck in her fingers. His tongue felt wet. 

He pulled back with a gag. Maybe that was too much. "Do you mind?" he said. "What were you hoping to find in there, the Black Hole of Kaluthi?" He rocked his jaw, as though setting it back into place.

"Something like that." Marron squinted at her wet fingertips. The clone's saliva reflected the light as anyone's would, only, the shine began to dull as the ki broke down, the saliva silently fizzing and fading to nothing. The cool sensation lifted, her fingers already dry. "So you have insides but nothing lasts when it's outside where it should be. That's the difference..."

"Alright, look. I can follow your thoughts good enough. Boss told me to get you downstairs in a good mood, and sure, I'd do a lot of things to make that happen, but I'm not going to literally spill my guts for you. Previous experience taught me that my guts are great where they are, thanks."

Marron tutted. "I wouldn't ask you to demo that."

"But you _would_ tear my arm off."

Marron mimicked his rebuttal with her hand and a whining voice, the sarcasm covering for her lack of comeback. He chuckled and batted at her, playful in his victory.

"But yeah, congrats," he said, "you found the limit of multiform. I can't keep things running when they're away from me."

"Other than that, though…"

"Me and the boss are exactly the same." He smiled ruefully. "He only gets that title because he's in the body so has the reins. Could have been any of us." 

A different form of shame washed over Marron - guilt. She'd seen Goten's clones in the kitchen enough times to remember that she paid them no heed as a rule, assuming them heavily puppeted by Goten himself, and addressed the main body only. So when Goten had once casually suggested he could summon an extra pair of hands and then some in the bedroom for her, the thought of dead eyes, a hollow touch, a trick of the light anywhere near her sent her into an indignant rage and Goten had shrank. She hadn't been prudish in her refusal to add another, so Goten only apologised, and she'd never felt need to clarify that it wasn't the idea of a second Goten, only the embarrassment of role-playing with an elaborate toy that unsteadied her. Now with full understanding a wave of relief followed, ebbing the earlier existential confusion uncovered with his touch.

"I can't give you guts," he, Goten, said, "but watch this." He pulled his vest over his head and tossed it towards the laundry hamper with his usual pinpoint precision. It landed heavily on another vest, white cotton and weave identical - the vest top the main Goten must have changed out of. She sat up taller to see inside the hamper, and within a moment the added shirt lost fidelity then evaporated to nothing with a soft, billowed _poof_. "I bet the me downstairs can't do that." He smiled his usual lop-sided smirk, the one Marron loved to feel against her lips. 

She returned to touching his back, walking her fingers up this time, reaching her own ki out to his. His presence was still naturally far stronger than hers, but the difference now wasn't as great, and it imbued her with a sense of power, a fire rekindled, the spark of which she couldn't quite place. Reaching his shoulders she squeezed both his traps and he melted beneath her hands. "That's nice," he said.

"What would happen if you took off your shorts?" 

"Exactly the same thing, obviously." 

She brushed her lips against the nape of his neck, and he shot up straight, a frisson rippling through his ki as he finally caught on, though he didn't respond in kind. 

"I remember suggesting -" he said slowly, carefully, "- sorry. I remember Goten suggesting this and you being super offended."

"Nice of you to admit you weren't joking," Marron whispered into his ear, "still, I was wrong to call a clone an abomination. I'm sorry."

"Oh?" He peered over his shoulder, bringing them nose to nose.

"You more than think and act like him. You are him -"

"That's what I've been saying."

"- and you're as real as you can be. I feel the same connection with you and attraction to you because you are you and, well... I'm assuming everything works the same?"

The clone, Goten's ki, this fragment of his very soul, struggled to battle back an eager smile. It crept across his face unevenly until it burst forth. He laughed, and she felt the rush of his very real excitement through his ki.

"You serious?"

"Well," she took a moment to retie her hair into a loose bun. Goten's eyes widened, knowing that meant business, "they say women get more adventurous in their thirties, I may as well get a head start, maybe try some things. But, only if boss-Goten won't be mad."

"You kidding? I am so far from mad, so he wouldn't be. Even if, Hell, if it's easier on you I could even poof to keep your secrets and he'd understand."

"Goten… You'd do that for me?"

There was no trace of hesitation in his body nor ki. "You kidding? For the chance to see you take the lead on the ideas I know are rattling around that pretty head of yours, no matter how brief the memory was, I mean, wow, whose birthday is thi-"

Marron kissed him. Goten pulled back at first, in blinded shock, but dove back in soon enough. His hand, palm calloused from the memory of staff training, cupped her cheek. She let him lead her down to the pillow, watched him strip by kicking down his shorts in the same way Goten would for any other morning tryst, let him run familiar fingers, touch electric, up her thigh. Their ki opened to the other and their eagerness flowed - only with his aura weaker than usual. His depletion finally placed those fiery memories of Goten. Exhausted but riled from battle highs, he would take- and give - whatever crossed their joint minds with impatience and without Marron's filter impeding his choices, and she treasured his encouragement then, but never acted on those thoughts herself. What cautions she could throw to the wind with his promise to evaporate her missteps? If there was a time for her to drop her passivity, to push her wants without fear of losing him, this was it.

They kissed with urgency, her running fingers through his hair to keep him close. She rolled them both, he then buried in his pillow and counting his luck by the doey-eyed looks of things. That look… she felt wanted unconditionally, and safe, her anxieties quietened. She pulled off her T-shirt in one fluid motion - missing the toss to the basket in her distraction - and straddled him. One downward glance answered her final question.

He grinned at himself. "Told you I was real where it counts. Happy birthday."

* * *

Goten nudged the combi oven door shut with a hip and checked his watch. Ten past seven, twenty minutes until opening. Marron's macarons would take fourteen minutes exactly, giving him ample time to fish them out before he had to be front of house.

"How're we doing?" he called to the rest of the kitchen. 

"Only this left on my list," his clone in the red apron said, clinking tongs at the last set of croissants ready to be bagged and stacked for the morning rush. "Pretty sure we're good to go."

His clone in the blue-checked apron hummed agreement, head in the reach-in liquids fridge and passing out cartons of every type of milk they had going. "Staff can pour these, otherwise only wipe down."

They'd made it, just in time. His staff would arrive in ten, yet again perplexed at how much he could get done alone, and after the ensuing morning rush he could finally relax. Three pairs of hands from five-thirty would normally cover morning prep without panic, so three clones plus himself was always a breeze. But today he'd left one to watch over Marron, and Goten himself had bailed to whip her up a birthday cake and stacks of macarons - a delicate pastry from the central regions Marron was partial to. Whilst a sponge cake with strawberry and cream was nothing to him - he'd made three, two to portion and sell and the most symmetrical kept back for this evening - his stubbornness over perfecting the macarons' temperamental fluffed egg whites had drawn ire from his clones, themselves frantic with the morning chores and as a consequence short with him. Though in their shared relief, it looked like all was forgiven. Which was lucky, as it would be silly to stay mad at himself for too long.

"Alright then," Goten said, "we can merge before or after you've had a break, but I'll finish -" 

The bead curtain hiding the steps to his flat clacked. His final clone, the one he'd instructed to stay with Marron, had finally appeared. He wore Goten's green towelled bathrobe and a shit-eating grin.

"Morning guys," he said, gliding barefoot into the kitchen. "Have I missed all the fun?"

"Thanks." Red tossed his tongs onto the steel work surface with a disgruntled clatter. "Marron's alarm went off ages ago. Where have you been?"

Green waggled his eyebrows, answering the question by parting his robe. Goten, Blue and Red all winced, the sight of their own stark-naked body without the aid of a flattering angle not particularly appealing. The harsh fluorescent light from above did no favours, either. "You told me to get her downstairs in a good mood," Green said, unperturbed, "and I'm delighted to announce that I delivered." He jogged around the kitchen soliciting hi-fives from the other clones, but only Blue mustered something of a limp pat.

"You can't be serious," said Blue, before turning to Goten. "You kept that quiet." 

"I didn't notice."

"How couldn't you notice _that_?"

In truth Goten had the same question. "I was busy..." was all he could muster. His ability to wholly focus on a task, whether manipulating ki or simply whisking egg whites, had a downside after all, apparently. Green passed on a second victory lap and Goten tugged his robe shut, a little harder than necessary in his annoyance. "Good job, man," he said to Green, holding out his hand ready to instigate the merge he so desperately needed to solve this mystery, "amazing job, but we're done here already so if you don't mind -"

But Green took a sweeping step back. "I don't think so. Mar finally let her guard down and turned the temperature up to see what I thought, and oh, I thought a great many things, but I think I'll keep them to myself."

What kind of treachery was this? "Sure you will. Come on, we both know you're too scared to poof. And if you want me to build on your learnings I need to know what you know. So..."

Green widened the gap. "Not happening. A gentleman always keeps his Lady's secrets." 

"She's my girlfriend too, ya jumped-up ki-blast."

"Not this morning she wasn't."

A duet of enthralled "ooo"s floated over from the other clones. Whose side were they on, anyway? "You owe me autonomy on this," Green said. "This morning worked out great for us, sure, but in talking herself round she nearly cut me open to oogle my innards."

"I'll cut _you_ open -" Goten lunged for Green, but they both knew the other too well, and Green spun away, blowing a kiss. His form shattered, ki billowing from him and fading into the air with a grand _poof_. The robe dropped to the floor with a heavy, final slump. Goten desperately tried to marshal what ki of the clone's he could, grabbing at the memories contained within, but the degradation was too quick to understand anything other than Green's sense of victory. Goten swore, and his two remaining clones laughed. 

"I'd only cut him open _hypothetically_ ," Marron said. The remaining three Gotens whipped round to witness Marron leaning against the door frame draped in beads, her silk robe tied loosely, hair tied even looser over one shoulder, unfixed flyaways in every direction giving her a wild, golden halo. "I was curious what he was made of, is all. Turns out he was all man." Her faraway expression made it clear Green had not lied one jot. She had the kind of carefree look Goten would pride himself on eliciting in her, and his rising jealousy made him chew the inside of one cheek.

"So spill," Goten eventually said. "What happened, exactly?"

Marron shrugged, her silk robe slipping from one shoulder ever so slightly and definitely deliberately. "You had a connection to your clone. You tell me."

"Oh fer - I was busy!"

The telltale smile born of tantalising secrets flourished on her face. "Too bad you'll never, ever know. I'm famished after that fun." She sauntered past without paying him further regard, grabbing a cooling croissant on her way to the far end of the kitchen, and she leant on the counter between his two clones. "Morning, boys." 

"You know," Blue said, sliding an arm behind her, a move Goten recognised and was sickened by, "I would also never betray you to that lump of meat. So, are you ready for round two?"

Marron bit her lip. 

"Alright, alright." Goten stepped into a stunned Red and spun into Blue, catching both aprons front and aft. The morning's memories muddled from three directions, stretching the two hours into a yawning six, and yet he'd rather feel the full weighty eight to replay the memories he desperately wanted. "I genuinely only meant him to be ready to cheer you up. I hope he, I, didn't pressure you." 

"I know, and not at all. He was perfectly respectable. I on the other hand, was not, in more ways than one." She tore off a bite of the croissant. "It was sweet of you to leave as much as you could of yourself with me." Marron said through flakes, delicately using her middle finger to lift pastry from her lips. "And courteous of him to poof after I confided in him. I got a practice run at some thoughts and ideas... All in all spending a morning like that with you was a lovely birthday present. Thank you."

"Well then," Goten slid his hand behind her to lean in and whisper. "Him giving in to his horn dog instincts was completely intentional. Happy birthday." They kissed.

"He was exactly like you, you know," she said.

"That's the point of multiform. Same person, right down to the techniques."

She playfully shoved his arm at his innuendo, a sign of her approval. "That's what he said, and demonstrated." She took another bite of the croissant, and used the time to chew over her next words. "I guess I should say I'm sorry to you, too. When you suggested forever ago to include multiform I assumed you were asking me to play along with some horrorshow of a puppet and got embarrassed."

"And not by the threesome, foursome or moresome idea? I thought the clone in principle crossed the line, and was why you wouldn't talk to them."

"Because I didn't think they were people. And it really wasn't the threesome thing that got me wound. I worked through that scenario a long time ago, in case someone in particular came up for you." She blushed, though she pretended not to. His heart melted at the depths of her consideration. "And don't get me wrong, he, or anyone else would still be a no right now -"

"Liked he'd have space in his schedule." 

"- but that clone was you. The situation was authentic and therefore uncomplicated. It'd still be just us. So I've decided." She faced Goten, determined, poking him with the croissant to emphasise her point. "One. Clone."

"'One clone' what?"

"You get to use one clone with me." She passed the half-eaten pastry to Goten and he accepted it without complaint in his struggle to process what he'd just heard. "Tonight only," she said, "before my bravery runs out." Marron brushed her hands on his apron, gave herself a nod, and left for the stairs.

Did she just… Back then she'd been so upset at the suggestion of the faux-threesome, a full-on welling of tears and emphatic refusal, he'd dropped the idea entirely without further elucidation. But if she'd thought the clone like any other blunt and soulless ki technique, of course she'd have been offended. Now, not only had she reorientated herself in the course of a morning, but she'd found time to jump the clone's very bones. What miracle did his clone weave? "Whose birthday is it again?" He finally called, just as she parted the beads.

"My second present is getting to tease you." She winked, her blush stronger, but she may as well have worn it as a badge of honour. "The not-so-secret cake first. Then... dessert. See you double this evening."

He watched her ascend, shocked, only able to slowly finish up the croissant in his stupor. At least she hadn't spotted the macarons, the only surprise he still had over her. 

He wrenched himself back to reality long enough to hang his aprons. They'd been just as surprised, neither of them with any brighter ideas as to what their clone did, and what Marron would have wanted to confide in a version of him.

A knock from the café door echoed through to the kitchen - his staff arriving for their opening shift. Goten scooped the green dressing gown from the floor to toss on the stairs, but held it a moment, willing the towelling to impart its secrets. He heard no reply.

Whatever they'd said and done together, he'd have to trust Green's judgement that it would be something Goten would want to experience for the first time a second time, special enough for Green to end his existence. He'd have to hope that whatever Green did to make it happen, Goten could pull out the bag, too. Although maybe, given her wink and raised chin, her newfound ease and the forwardness that he knew, _he knew_ she'd been hiding all along… maybe he'd be better off letting this newly emerged Marron lead the birthday surprises. Age and confidence certainly became her.


End file.
